A Home At The End Of The World
by Kos-Mos607
Summary: Resident Evil: Extinction Every night he could hear the sounds of Mike’s silent whimpers as the images inside his dreams grew darker and each morning the Australian’s face would look pale and haunted. SLASH!
1. Chapter 1: Screams In The Dark

**Title: **A Home At The End Of The World

**Fandom:** Resident Evil

**Pairing:** Carlos/Mikey

**Rating:**T for this part

I bring yet another Resident Evil: Extinction fic with me in honor of the movie coming out last week. This will be a small series (probably 5 chapters or so) and I really hope you'll enjoy it because there's not enough RE slash out there. Apologies to the cannon lovers but there's not a big selection of men for me to slash in this fandom.

* * *

_Screams, both angry, and blood curling filled the air around him as he ran. His legs burned with strain and the skin of his hands seamed to burn from all of the dried blood staining their pale length. His feet blindly carried him inside a dark building— he didn't care about the sudden absence of light, only that the walls would provide temporary shelter from the creatures he was running from— and his hands also acted on their own accord by pulling the door shut and bolting it afterwards._

_His eyes briefly glanced around the small space he had sealed himself in, it seemed to be a small storage house for computers and let out a small sigh of relief when he didn't see any movement. A loud bang resonated from the barred door behind him, immediately drawing his attention back to the door and away from the many shelves and dark spaces behind him. _

_The door rattled loudly but didn't show any signs of giving under the assault of the monsters that had chased him here. Something chimed on the floor behind him but his ears didn't pick up the sound in time before a rotting, grease stained arm slid roughly under his neck and pulled him off his feet. His screams were drowned out by a deep, animalistic growl and yellow and dark red stained teeth sunk into his shoulder with a painful chomp._

--------------------

With a start, Mike bolted upright and felt himself fall off the side of his bunk in the process. He landed heavily on the metal floor of his van with a thud, feeling his shoulder give under his full weight.

"Fuck…"

He regretted his yelp the moment he uttered it because the sounds of someone shifting around in the bed behind him soon reached his ears.

"Mikey? Shit—"

A small thud of feet hitting the floor followed the voice and Mike bit into his lip in order to keep the rest of his pained groans silent, not wanting worry the man behind him further.

"I'm alright."

His assurance was ignored and soon he was pulled into a sitting position by a pair of well-muscled arms, the pair of arms that he'd grown to know so well over the past handful of months. The hands moved up his arm gently, lightly feeling the red area where he landed on and moved up to the side of his head not long after wards.

"Jesus you took a hard fall, I told you not to put that thing so high." The man sitting on the floor next to him mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I'm fine." The stubborn Aussie replied.

"Right." Carlos snorted, his fingers still feeling the side of his partner's head. "Nothing's broken at least."

"Well, that's a relief."

Carlos moved his gaze to the Australian's face; his eyes almost black looking in the dim lighting of the van. They stared into Mike's blue ones for a few seconds, making the younger male squirm mentally under their glare before the older man broke the thick silence that was starting to form in the air around them.

"Another nightmare?"

The blonde merely nodded and turned his head away, fearing that the images from his dream would be replayed in his eyes for the other man to see. It wasn't the first time he had one so vivid it felt real and it wasn't the first time his dreams or the aftershocks had awoken the Brazilian from his sleep. However, it didn't make him feel any less guilty or ashamed. Ever since Carlos started sleeping in his van Mike had tried his damn hardest to keep his nightmares a secret from the other man but it only took a few nights before Carlos was awoken violently from one of his night terrors by a fist flying into his gut. Mike felt guilty over that for a week.

"Here, let's get you off the floor." Carlos sighed as he looped his large hands under Mike's arms and hauled the smaller man to his feet with a strong pull.

Mikey silently obeyed, too shaken up from his dream to fight as he was directed back towards his bunk. He mentally growled when Carlos tried to help him climb the few feet to the bed and managed to groggily climb to its surface himself. The Brazilian merely sighed and climbed in after him, one of his large arms gently curling around Mike's bare waste.

"I don't suppose you care to tell me what this one was about?"

Mike's eyes gazed at the wall of his van half-heartedly and after a few seconds, he shook his head. The images still felt too to real him to relive them and he wasn't in any mood to share them, especially with his lover.

"Fine." Carlos sighed, molding his body closer to the Australian's; he'd given up on trying to force the blonde to talk about his dreams long ago.

With a small sigh, Carlos settled his head against one of the bed's makeshift pillows and gazed at the cabin's roof, his ears carefully alert for any tell-tell sings of anything moving outside of the van and also any movements from his partner. Unfortunately, the tears that fell from Mike's watery eyes made no sound and went unnoticed in the silence of the enclosed van.


	2. Chapter 2

I finally updated this darn thing. The stupid muse refused to work until now

**Under The Desert Sun**

With a twitch, Carlos felt himself wake at the sound of his watch beeping. He groaned deep in his throat and blindly bumped his fingers against the annoying contraption's face until they found the small button to silence the alarm. His head slumped back against his pillow with a soft thump; five-thirty seemed to come faster and faster each morning.

He glanced over to his right saw that Mike was still turned away from him, shoulders tense, and arms curled tightly against his stomach. A sharp pain went through his chest at the sight and it only intensified when he inched closer and caught a glimpse at the dried tear tracks on Mike's cheek.

(Damn it, Mikey.)

The Brazilian bit his lip in order to keep the rest of his thoughts silent - after all, Mike needed as much sleep as he could get - and quietly rolled off the side of the bunk. The search for his clothes started the moment his feet hit the floor and he dressed as quickly as he could. The convey would be moving in less then half an hour, according to the watch Chase had given to him. And he needed to meet with Claire and Otto to help them determine their next destination beforehand.

With one last look at Mike's tense, sleeping, form, Carlos silently padded to the rear of the van's cabin and unlatched the door. At first, he was worried the sudden burst of early morning sun would startle the blonde awake, but thankfully, Mike didn't even stir, not even when Olivera closed the door behind him as he exited.

The desert sun was blinding and with a few grumbled cruses, Carlos used his one of his hands to shield himself from it as he rounded the rear of the news van. Otto's school bus was parked on the far side of the campfire, along with Claire's Hummer so he headed off into their direction. As the neared the Hummer's side he could hear Claire's voice over the sounds of rustling sand.

"—to risky, we can't even see the entire length of it."

"We need to give it a shot, the tank's full of more rust then gas these days. They have pumps so there's a small hope—"

The second voice definitely belonged to Chase, the southern draw was an instant give away and Carlos hurried the last few feet around the vehicle until the two entered his vision.

"What's going on?"

Upon hearing his voice, Claire and Chase turned in his direction but it was Redfield who spoke first.

"Chase found a rest stop half a mile east." Claire spoke and pointed in a far off direction.

Carlos glanced over in the direction but frowned when he couldn't see anything past the hills lining the road the convoy camped by during the night.

"It's on the other side of the rock formation over 'ere." Chase replied. "There's a store, an Inn and a gas station. Could be a good chance there's something left."

"But—" Claire interrupted. "We can't see the entire length of the area. There could be hundreds of those things stumbling around behind the buildings."

Carlos moved his gaze between the two of them before shrugging. "There might be some supplies left. It's worth checking out, at least."

"That's what I've been sayin'. I watched it for a good twenty minutes and didn't see any movement. It's deserted enough."

Even though the former U.B.C.S officer fully agreed with the Texan's words, Carlos turned his head towards Claire and waited for her response. The brunette pursed her lips for a short period of time before she hung her head with a sigh.

"We don't have much of a choice do we?"

"Not with the food and gas this low." Chase stated, crossing his arms.

Carlos waited until he was sure the two had mutually agreed on the topic before he spoke again. "I'll go wake L.J. and we'll go scope it out."

Claire turned her arm over and looked at her watch. "Yeah, we need to get everyone moving."

Chase nodded and disappeared around the rear of the school bus, his footsteps softly crunching in the distance. Carlos waited until he couldn't hear them anymore before lightly clearing his throat.

"Think you could do me a favor this morning?"

"You're not getting any more of my smokes Olivera." Claire replied in an even voice, but the playful glint in her eyes caused the Brazilian to grin slightly.

"I have my own stash, thanks." Carlos chuckled in reply but changed his tone of voice a short moment later. "Think you can wait a while before you wake Mike up?"

Claire's face remained blank for a few passing seconds before she nodded slightly.

"More nightmares?" She asked and Carlos nodded grimly, causing her to sigh sadly. "I swear Mikey and K-Mart have the worst. A part of me doesn't even want to know what happened."

Carlos nodded mutely and the left side of his chest tightened painfully as it normally did whenever he thought about his lover's nightmares. Every night he could hear the sounds of Mike's silent whimpers as the images inside his dreams grew darker, and each morning the Australian's face would look pale and haunted. Mike would completely cut himself off from everyone for the first half of the following day. He'd normally regain his usual perk by the afternoon only to reluctantly pull himself back into their bed at night and shrug off any attempts of comfort from his partner.

Carlos was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Claire's eyes on him. He cleared his throat shortly afterwards and composed himself.

"I'll go get L.J. and we'll check it out."

"Right, I'll get the others moving."

With that, the two exchanged one more nod before parting ways and disappearing behind the vehicles.

* * *

True to her word, Claire Redfield waited until she had woken all the other vehicle occupants before she made her way towards the news van parked at the rear of the camp.

"Mikey, we're moving out." She called, pounding the palm of her hand against the van's side.

She waited a moment and was about to knock again when a light thump came from the van's interior, signaling the Australian had heard her. Claire waited until the sounds of movement neared the van's rear before circling behind the vehicle. The cabin's door was pushed open a moment later and out slid a disheveled Mikey, groaning at the early desert sunlight.

Claire studied him for a moment, slightly pursing her lips. Carlos was right to be worried, Mikey looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and blonde winced every few moments as he wound his arm in a small circle in the air, trying to stretch out his shoulder.

"What time is it?"

"Time to get moving. Carlos and L.J. are scouting an area that might have supplies."

"Oh-kay." Mikey replied around a yawn. "Let me just—"

"Chase already gathered the perimeter sentinels."

That caused Mikey to blink slightly. "How long did I sleep for?"

Instead of answering him, Claire tapped her watch and started moving away from the van. "We're moving out in five, get your stuff ready."

With that, Claire turned and soon disappeared behind Otto's school buss, leaving Mikey alone in the desert heat, still rolling his shoulder in an attempt to work the soreness from his fall during the night out.

* * *

"Looks clear to me."

"Don't they always?" Carlos mumbled in reply and adjusted the zoom on the binoculars he was looking through.

The rest stop - although to him it looked like it was once a strip mall with a small hotel at the end of it - did indeed looked deserted, Carlos couldn't see any movement or any foreign shadows along the sandy ground. Even though he couldn't see anything alive – or dead and walking- in the area, it didn't always mean they weren't around.

(On the plus side, though they don't normally stick around deserted areas for too long. No food.)

"Wanna chance it?"

Carlos lowered the binoculars and shrugged. "Don't have much of a choice do we? We're running out of supplies."

Next to him, L.J. shoved his own binoculars into a bag and scooted towards the ladder on the bus's far side. "Alright."

Carlos followed suit, shoving his binoculars into his backpack, and sliding down the ladder. He landed heavily on the dirt and followed L.J. towards Claire's Hummer.

"I'm driving!"

"God help us." Carlos mumbled, shaking his head at L.J.'s enthusiasm. "At least there's nothing out here for you to wreck into."

"You can kiss my ass, Olivera."

"Are you sure? Betty has much nicer lips then I do."

"One more word, and I'm running your ass over, you hear me?" L.J. yelled as he opened the H2's door and climbed into the driver's seat.

With a quick twist of the key's Claire lent him, the H2 roared to life and L.J. wailed happily as he put the SUV into gear and slammed his foot down on the pedal. Carlos wasted no time grabbing the handle mounted above the passenger's door, swearing under his breath as the H2 pounded through the dirt onto the worn out highway the convoy had camped off of during the night.

"Claire said to do a thorough sweep of the whole area no matter how long it takes. If we need back up-"

"When the fuck have we ever needed their help before? Besides, do we really need the roaming cowboy down here griping at us?"

"Point noted."

The remaining minutes passed in silence as Carlos checked and double-checked their weapons and L.J. kept his eyes sharp for the turn off towards the motel. Not like it really mattered since the H2 was the only vehicle on the highway. L.J. whooped loudly as the exit ramp for the rest stop came into view and after an extremely violent turn that sent his Brazilian passenger into a swearing fit, the H2 soon slowed to a screeching halt in the parking lot of the rest area.

Both men eyed the buildings around them closely, watching for any sign of movement.

"See anything?"

Carlos shook his head after a moment. "No."

Without another word, Carlos handed L.J. his pair of gold Desert Eagles, and the two men wearily exited the hummer.

* * *

"This is Claire Redfield's emergency line. Is anyone out there?"

After waiting a few minutes for a reply that he knew would never come, Mikey pressed the red call button on the radio with a bored groan.

(This is stupid.)

"This is Claire Redfield's emergency line. Once again, is anyone out there?"

With a sigh, Mikey tossed the transmitter onto the desk with a loud thud. The noise however, reached the cabin of his van and attracted the attention of his driver.

"Something wrong, Mikey?" Claire asked, eyeing him in the rear-view mirror.

"No." The Australian replied trying to ignore Claire's stern look. "Fine, yes. It's pointless for me to be sitting here day after day broadcasting when not a soul is out there. Why should I bother?"

"Because, Mikey, there's still people out there in this mess."

"Not in the middle of fucking nowhere." Mikey mumbled under his breath.

Claire heard him however. "We found you in the middle of nowhere, remember? The Warehouse in California."

Her statement cut right through his resolve. "How could I forget…?"

Upon hearing the dark tone in the usually upbeat Australian's voice, Claire turned in the driver's seat. Mikey's face had dawned an expressionless look. It wasn't a common occurrence, but it happened enough times for Claire to catch onto it - and it was more than likely Carlos knew his tactic as well. She'd noticed it usually happened when someone mentioned the day the convoy found the Australian locked away in a rundown computer warehouse. Carlos was the one who found him and led the shaky blond to their convoy, Mikey clinging to him like a lifeline the entire way.

"_Claire, come in."_

Claire jumped as Carlos' voice buzzed from the small walkie-talkie attached to her belt.

"I'm here, Carlos."

"The motel looks safe from the outside. We're heading inward."

Claire nodded, ignoring how odd it looked. _"_Alright, just be careful."

"_You know the drill, if we're not back by nightfall-"_

"Leave without you." She finished, looking up just in time to see Mikey bit his lower lip in the mirror.

"_Carlos out."_

Claire placed the radio on the passenger's seat and sighed.

(Stay safe boys, you're needed here more then you know.)

* * *

"Why the fuck are these places _always _dark!?"

"Because those things love pissing you off L.J.." Carlos replied as he moved into the center of the hotel's lobby, or rather what was left of it.

L.J. closed the rusted and sand-beaten door behind him, and moved to the Brazilian's side. The lobby was a chaotic mess. Chairs were upturned and left in broken pieces. The shelf behind the front desk was knocked to the side and room keys were scattered all around the floor. The windows were heavily boarded up with wood, random pieces of metal, and even some of the padding from the lobby chairs was wedged against the glass. The room was also very dark in many places, causing L.J. to grumble loudly as he searched through his backpack for a flashlight.

"Bingo!" L.J. announced as he located the elusive flashlight and turned it on. "Damn, this place looks like shit."

"Yeah." Carlos agreed. "Still, you know the drill."

"Aye-aye, captain."

Drawing his gun to his shoulder, Carlos moved to the opposite end of the lobby and glanced down the long hallway leading to the motel's rooms. He signaled for L.J. to follow him, and the other man did so without complaint. Carlos peeked his head into the first room they came upon and once discovering it was empty, he moved to the next room, and the next. All of the rooms attached to the hallway were deserted.

"Looks clear."

"Finally, some goddamn luck." L.J. replied, glancing into the closest room they were standing near. "You know, those beds don't look half bad."

The Brazilian eyed the room for a moment. "They're still intact at least; I guess only the lobby was torn apart."

"Sure beats sleeping in the damn trucks."

Carlos turned his head, suddenly understanding what the other man was hinting at. "You think it'd be safe?"

L.J. shrugged. "I dunno, we could sweep the area again, and once Mikey gets the perimeter up…"

Carlos turned the idea over in his head a few times. Every room they passed was still in decent enough shape and all the windows were boarded up. The lobby looked relatively safe, too, minus the unlocked and very open front door they encountered. But they could always wedge one of the vehicles in front of it for the night.

(For the night? We could stay here for a few days, at the least; get our bearings straight once more before we move out again.)

A small rattle behind his back pulled the Brazilian out of his thoughts, and with a jolt, Carlos drew his gun and turned on his heel, his eyes immediately searching out any sign of a threat. He expected a zombie or even one of those demented and grotesque dogs, but he never expected to be staring down a long, silver, tube of a double barrel shot gun aimed right for his face. The gun was held by a stout man in his early forties, his eyes were narrowed into small slits as he stared the Brazilian down.

"Get out."

The command was simple, but spoken coldly. The former U.B.C.S. officer wasn't fazed and refused to lower his weapon.

"Calm down, we're not those_ things_."

"I don't care." The man replied also refusing to lower his weapon. "This is our hiding spot, find your own."

"Hiding spot? Mother fucker, does it look like we're trying to-" L.J.'s comment ended when he heard a lock cock behind him. "Fuck. Carlos!"

Carlos quickly glanced over his shoulder, not daring to look away from the man aiming a gun at him and saw that another person - a middle-aged woman - was aiming a shotgun at the small of L.J.'s back.

(Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.)

"Like I said, find your own damn hiding place." The man repeated.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Carlos slowly lowered his weapon and held a hand up. "It's okay; we're not here to cause any problems. We're part of a group; we travel on the roads and find survivors. We needed supplies and we saw this place-"

"Bitch, push me one more time with that fucking thing and see what happens!"

"L.J. shut up!" Carlos yelled, not even taking his eyes away from the man holding the gun. "Like I said, we just came here for supplies."

The man stared at him for a long moment, almost like he was carefully replaying Carlos's words in his head before loudly pulling back the gun's hammer.

(Oh, fuck!)

Before Carlos could react to the man's actions, the small walkie attached to his belt buzzed.

"_Carlos, L.J., come in. Find anything?"_

Carlos instantly recognized Mikey's voice and his chest tightened painfully, hoping with all his being that this wasn't going to be the last time he'd hear the Australian's voice. A pair of feet shuffled loudly behind him.

"That voice…that's the voice from the radio."

The man glanced over Carlos' shoulder towards his female partner, and then eyed the Brazilian wearily. "Is that true, is he the one we've been hearing on the radio?"

"You've got to be shitting me." L.J. gawked. "They've been getting Mikey's transmissions."

Carlos nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed inside his throat. "Yes, that's Mikey. He's part of our group."

"Prove it." The man ordered.

With a small nod, Carlos slowly reached for his walkie and pulled it free. The man watched his every move closely, his arms never lowering the gun as the small device was raised to the Brazilian's mouth.

"Mikey, come in."

A few tense moments passed before the radio crackled again.

"_I'm here, did you guys find anything?"_

"Repeat your last radio transmission for me again, please."

Mikey's reply came a short time later. _"What?"_

"Send your broadcast out one more time."

"_Why?"_

"Just do it."

The radio went silent after his order, and Carlos hoped the blonde was about to do what he asked. A faint, static buzz soon reached his ears and even though it sounded far off and he had no idea where it was located, he instantly knew it was a radio.

"_This is Claire Redfield's emergency line broadcasting for any potential survivors."_

Even though he wasn't close enough to radio to hear the message fully, the woman holding the gun at L.J.'s back did.

"That's him alright; he's been sending those messages out since yesterday."

The man eyed his partner for a long minute before he finally lowered the gun. A deep sigh of relief eased from Carlos' lungs and behind him, L.J. did the same.

"About damn time."

The man spoke up again before Carlos could fully relax. "You said you had a convoy. How many of you are there?"

"Forty." Carlos replied, trying hard to keep the nerves out of his voice as he spoke. "There's about forty of us with eight vehicles."

The woman's footsteps echoed in the hall as she walked past him, leaning close to her partner.

"Other people Eric, there are other people there." She whispered, her voice light and hopeful.

"How do we know they're not sick like the rest of them? They could have been bitten or-"

"Hey, none of us are anything like those mother fucking things, okay?"

"God damn it, L.J., stop yelling at them." Carlos hissed over his shoulder.

The woman ignored them however. "We could go with them; I can't stay here any longer."

"No." The man, Carlos guessed he was her husband, replied. "It's not safe. We'll be outside with those _things_ lurking around."

"Eric, please-"

"You'll be safe with us. We've got weapons, armored vehicles, food, and water. We stay on the move to keep from being noticed by those things." Carlos interjected. "We even have a security system that Mikey created."

The man, Eric, stared at him for a long period of time.

"Do you have room for us?"

L.J. opened his mouth before Carlos could speak. "Of course, there's always room for one more in the Brady household."

His comment made the pair loosen up a bit, the woman even smiled slightly before dropping her head to stare at the floor. Eric raised an arm and gently curled it around her shoulder lovingly.

"You said you need supplies, you are free to take what you need from here."

"Thank you." Carlos nodded and reached for his walkie-talkie once more. "Claire, the area's clear. Move in."

Claire's voice buzzed a light 'Roger that,' in reply and his walkie went silent once again. He turned towards L.J. and tried his hardest not to laugh at the flustered look one other man's face.

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. My pants stink a little, on account of me shitting in them while the gun was held to my back, but I'm fine."

He had to laugh at that, even in the worse, most horrific conditions, L.J. could still make him laugh.

"Oh, come on, we've had worse."

"No argument there. Nothing's worse then having that ugly mother fucking what-cha-ma-call-it back in Raccoon aiming a rocket launcher at our heads."

The Brazilian shuttered mentally at the memory. Great, he was going to have interesting dreams tonight.

"Seriously, dude, when I get back to the truck, I'm giving my entire stash to the fucking Aussie. Who would've thought he'd ever save our asses like that."

The sounds of heavy, V8 engines reached the ears of all four people, and all of them turned in the direction of the lobby.

"There's the Calvary."

The couple enthusiastically shuffled over towards the windows and glanced through the openings in the boards, awing quietly.

"Well, I'll be damned, you weren't kidding, never thought I'd see another person aside from my wife again." Eric sighed happily and took a much longer look through the spaces. "It's okay, Mary, I don't see any sign of them, they've moved on."

His statement immediately caught L.J.'s attention. "They?"

"Yeah, a few of those things showed up here about a week ago, messed everything up and knocked the door down. Thankfully, there's a cellar underneath here that had a heavy door, we were able to hide from them down there."

Carlos and L.J. exchanged looks; both of their faces paling.

"What?"

Suddenly realizing what had both men worried, Eric spoke once again. "Most of them moved on after a few days but there was one that stayed behind, heck that was reason we came up here in the first place, we thought it was still stumbling around here."

(Fuck.)

"Dude, we cleared the area when he pulled in. We didn't see anything."

"Because we didn't fully check the place out, remember? This was the first place we came to." The Brazilian replied anxiously.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." L.J. muttered under his breath and franticly pulled his walkie from his pocket, almost dropping it a handful of times. "Claire!"

Carlos felt his heart slow a few beats as a full minute passed without a reply.

L.J. grew more frantic. "Claire! Situation! Situation, damn it!"

Ignoring his neurotic friend, Carlos turned towards the couple. "Alright, you two follow between me and him. We're heading for the convoy. L.J.!"

L.J. dropped the radio back into his pocket and pulled the gold barrel back on one of his guns. "Shit, just when things were finally starting to look up for once."

Carlos agreed silently, raising his own gun.


End file.
